


Ransom

by Geenee27



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-14 23:01:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21023663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geenee27/pseuds/Geenee27
Summary: You never know what could happen at Wardlow when things go whump in the night.I adore Whumptober and I love that I am not the only sick one in this fandom who lives to torture our beloved support detectives.Thank you @whopooh , we love our little evil plot bunny extraodinaire.





	1. Chapter 1

The Honourable Miss Phryne Fisher was not completely certain as to why she slowly became conscious in the middle of the night, the previous day had been an arduous one and by rights she should be sound asleep.

She assessed. The usual reason for being stirred from her slumber was right there, pressed up against her cheek. She was curled around her favourite bed partner and she felt her heart lighten, as it always did when she felt her skin pressed to his, smooth and warm. As per usual he had decided to forgo the pyjamas jacket, grumbling that she made him too warm to need it and that it never stayed on long enough to bother.

She smiled into his skin and contemplated the possible consequences of her lightly stroking the messy head of hair that had run riot in his sleep. Best to let sleeping Inspectors lie ? It had been a late night...

Phryne, never one to deny herself the simple pleasures of life, made her decision and was stealthily reaching up to tickle the short hairs on the back of his neck, when a hand snaked up and fingers wrapped gently around her wrist

“Miss Fisher”, came the low grumble, “this better be a matter of life or death." He felt her grin. "Have pity, a man needs his sleep or he'll never be able to keep up with you.”

“Something woke me.”

“I fell for that a few hours ago, as you know full well.”

“Yes you did and it was very nice.”

“Harumph”

He was stilled when she suddenly shushed him and raised her head; she thought she had heard a faint click coming from the floor below. She sat up and listened. Another very faint sound, barely audible.

“I hear movement downstairs.”

He almost snorted out loud, “And I fell for that last week.”

“No really, there's a noise downstairs.”

“Your revolver is in the night table, let me know what you find.” Her bed partner turned on his side and drew a pillow over his head.

“Jack,” she whispered. He reluctantly uncovered his head and looked back at her, scowling.

“You search the downstairs and I'll take the outside. When you're done, meet me out front,” she ordered and before he could protest, she had slipped out of bed, wrapped her black silk robe with the fighting cocks on the back around her and retrieved her gold revolver from a drawer. Then quick as a whip she stepped through the bedroom window and onto the balcony outside.

Her sleuthing partner threw back the covers and sat on the side of the bed, rubbing his face and then running his fingers through his hair, making it stand up and point every which way. Then, once he had accertained that at least pyjama trousers were in place, he headed out into the hallway and listened at the top of the stairs. He thought he could hear something, so descended slowly. The only light he noticed was spilling in weakily from a streetlight.

When the Inspector reached the front foyer, all seemed normal, initially. He tried the front door and to his surprise it opened on his touch. Had they forgotten to lock it when they stumbled in last night? He didn't think so and besides, he knew Mr. Butler always did a final tour of the house, no matter what time they arrived back at Wardlow. Someone must have picked or forced the lock.

Sure enough, as he inspected the outside keyhole plate, he saw the telltale signs of tampering. Heaven knows he had seen it enough times on the front door to his bungalow, courtesy of a certain lady detective who thought it was much more fun to break in then actually knock and wait for the occupant to answer the door. Cheeky woman.

Jack closed the door and did a quick reconnaissance of the rest of the downstair rooms. At one point, their fearless butler stuck his head out from his rooms and addressed the Inspector with concern, asking as to whether he needed assistance. The younger man quickly assured the older that he and Miss Fisher could manage looking for the source of a strange noise and apologized for disturbing him. Mr. Butler murmured something about it being no problem and his head disappeared once more, apparently unfazed as ever. The Inspector shook his head at the unflappability of the man, commiserating with him that nothing that happened in this house would surprise him either. The corner of his mouth dipped down at the thought.

Having cleared the main floor, Jack returned to the front foyer and yanked open the door, ready to upbraid his partner for her silliness. He stepped out onto the front portico and froze. The grounds of Wardlow lay in dark shadow and there appeared to be no movement except for the rose bushes, which were lightly wafting from an offshore breeze. It was eerily quiet, empty, and there was no sign of a lady detective. Except for... he looked closer. There was a glint from the front walkway, about halfway down to the gate. He sped down the steps and as he feared came face to face with a golden gun lying discarded on the stone path. Leaving it where it lay, he tore the gate open and ran into the middle of the street, looking one way then the other. To his right he saw the faint red tail lights of a vehicle blink on and then disappear around a corner.

The Inspector ran back up the walk, leaving the evidence untouched, and as he raised his hand to push the front door he had left ajar, Mr. Butler swung it inward. Trusty cricket bat at hand.

“Call City South and Constable Collins please Mr. Butler, it looks like Miss Fisher has been taken. I'm going to try and follow in the Hispano. They were heading north on the Esplannade,” then he added , “And I'll need a gun.”

It was then the Detective Inspector spied a grimy looking, folded over piece of paper lying off to the side on the stoop and bent to carefully retrieve it by its edges.

His heart fell as he saw the wording on the page.

RANSOM


	2. Chapter 2

Jack hurried into the residence as Mr. Butler stepped aside, holding the door. The policeman placed the note carefully on the front hall table and headed towards the back garden door via the kitchen, calling over his shoulder as he went. ” I'll get the motorcar out of the garage. Leave that letter for the attending police.” He then proceeded out the door and ran towards the shed in the back of the garden that housed the Hispano.

Mr. Butler rustled around in the pantry and waited for the Inspector to return, which he did within the minute.

“Your pistol sir, and might I suggest some footwear and a jumper.” Jack took the gun gratefully as he looked down and suddenly realized he was dressed in nothing more then his pyjama trousers. “Thank you Mr. Butler.” He hurriedly donned both and was off back to the motorcar.

His mind was racing as he contemplated what condition she might be in and who could have possibly wanted to take her. Granted, it was well known that she was a wealthy socialite, so he was hoping against hope that this was simply a ploy for gain and that they would release her after payment was made.

Unfortunately, another little voice in his head tried to intrude, reminding him of how often kidnapping cases went awry. He brushed it away, not wanting to give into panic, panic that would hinder his focus.

The Hispano jumped under his touch and sped north up the Esplannade in the direction he had seen the other vehicle flee. He counted the cross streets until he was fairly sure he had reached the right one, then made a hard right turn. He floored the clutch, at the same time grinding the gears, and ignored Phryne's voice admonishing him for his treatment of her beloved motorcar. He sped on.

A minute later, as he glanced around to the left and right up side streets and alleyways, he came upon a vehicle stopped dead in the middle of the road and had to stand on the brakes to avoid riding up the back of it. As it was, the Hispano pulled sharply to the right and the momentum took it up onto the boulevard. Jack cursed, smacked the steering wheel with his hand, slammed out of the car and rounded the hood, ready to blast the other driver for leaving their vehicle in the middle of the road.

He came to a sudden stop when he saw a figure leaning against the driver side door, brushing their hair back from their eyes.

“What took you so long?”

Jack made a noise that was part huff and part moan and bent over so he could breathe as his chest seemed to have forgotten how to expand. Wetness gathered at the edges of his eyes and he swiped at his face as he straightened again. Then raising his arms so as to reveal to her his sartorial splendour, he walked slowly over to her and replied gruffly, “I had to get dressed.”

She had her arms wrapped tightly to her, holding her robe closed; a shotgun lay at her feet and a revolver dangled absently from her right index finger. Jack sighed, laid one hand on her arm and gingerly relieved her of the gun with the other. Then he lightly rubbed the arm as she leaned into him and his arm went around her shoulders, holding her close. They stayed that way for a few moments, his chin upon her hair and her cheek upon his chest, as they both processed this near miss and let their adrenaline subside somewhat.

“How many were there ?”

“Two.”

“Are they in the motorcar?” He tried to peer in but it was very dark and could not make out many details.

“Yes.” she murmured.

“What did you tie them up with?”

“My sash.” He nodded slightly. Of course.

They were quiet for a moment more, listening as the sound of police sirens began to become apparent. A couple of people from a neighbouring house had come out on their porch to glare and yelled, “Whatcha doin' hangin' 'round at this time a night! Clear off or I'll call the coppers.”

Phryne huffed and Jack released her reluctantly. He went to the back door of the sedan and yanked it open, pistol raised. One man was prone on the floor of the car, apparently unconscious and sporting a suspicious red welt on his forehead and a swollen eye. Another man was trussed up on the back seat and held his hands out palms forward, almost like he was surrendering.

Headlights flashed as a vehicle turned into the street and the police siren wailed before it came to a stop behind the scene. Both front doors flew open and men in uniform crouched behind them, guns drawn, taking in what was happening before them.

It was somewhat of a shock to see their senior commanding officer, in pyjamas trousers, wellingtons and a too small jumper, standing next to a bare footed woman in a black robe and pointing a pistol into the back seat of a motorcar. Jack lowered the gun and gestured for his men to stand down.

Another car pulled up shortly thereafter and out jumped the Collinses. Dorothy ran past the police vehicle and threw her arms around her mistress. Senior Constable Hugh Collins strode up to his boss and raised an eyebrow as he took in the tableau.

“Collins, I'll leave you to secure the crime scene if you will. Call for back up to process every inch. I'll take Miss Fisher home and meet you at the station later. No statements until I get there, understand. I will lead the interviews.” His face was stoic as he barked his orders but Hugh could see the anger in his eyes and simply responded, “Yes sir.” The Senior Constable then turned to the other policemen standing off to the side and motioned to them. ” You heard the Inspector, lets get those men out of the car and carted off to the station.”

Jack went back to where Phryne stood arm in arm with Dorothy, her colour still pale, and he offered gently, “May I escort you home, Miss Fisher.” Phryne did not respond at first, then seemed to shake herself out of her thoughts and smiled tremulously.

"My statement... ," she began.  


"Can wait." he replied.

“I can stay with you Miss, if you'd like.” Dorothy added. "I'll make you a nice cup of tea."

Phryne looked up at Jack and he nodded reassuringly. “I'll call Mac too. I just need to go to the station for awhile and oversee the arrest. I don't want anything missed.”

Phryne understood, nodded and spoke more firmly, chin up, ” I'll be fine, but I think I'd rather have a stiff drink instead.”

Jack searched her face and knew she'd be okay.

*****************************************

Jack tiptoed quietly to the bedroom door and silently turned the knob to gain entrance. Peering in he could just make out a figure in the bed at this predawn hour. He stepped in, closed the door softly and removed the robe and slippers he had earlier donned in his dressing room along with a clean set of pyjamas. He lifted the bedclothes and slipped into bed, trying not to disturb his bed partner. Lying back gently until his head was cushioned, he was finally able to acknowledge how exhausted he was - from the fear and adrenaline rush, to dealing with the perpetrators until the wee hours. He was drained mentally, emotionally, physically as his mind briefly visited those moments of terror and absolute helplessness... at how close he had come to almost losing her... again.

He shuddered and turned his head to look at her, making sure she was really there and safe. Two shiny aqua blue eyes looked back at him. He sighed.

Phryne's eyes asked the question without her saying a word.

“Two low level thugs... thought they could make some quick cash... never really even thought it through. Amateurs.”

“I suspected as much.”

“Never stood a chance against you, Miss Fisher.”

She scooched over to him and wrapped herself around him, “Surely you weren't worried, Inspector?”

“I was worried for them,” he dodged and reached for her hand.

“Liar” His lips twitched.

“Sorry you had to worry.”

“All part of the job.” He kissed her head.

“Well, I was quite concerned too. I'm not nearly finished with you Inspector and the thought of... well it was just.... unbearable.”

“Sounds serious?”

“It is.”

The room was quiet for a long while, then Phryne moved slightly to nestle more comfortably into the crook of his neck and under his arm. Startled she sat up.

"Jack Robinson, you take that gun from under your pillow and put it away! Now!"


End file.
